#AmericanWriters
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
In the Quarter of the Negroes Where the doors are doors of paper Dust of dingy atoms Blows a scratchy sound. Amorphous jack—o’—Lanterns caper
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.